Dreams of Paradise Lost
by stexgirl2000
Summary: A coda to Extinction...Archer, Sato, and Reed deal with their dreams.


Title: Dreams of Paradise Lost...  
  
Author: Stexgirl2000  
  
Disclaimers: I don't own any part of Enterprise or the whole Star Trek universe. It all belongs to Paramount and is run by Bermaga. I'm just having some fun and don't get a penny from this.  
  
Rating: PG-13.  
  
Category: General, friendship.  
  
Codes: S, A, R  
  
Spoilers: For Extinction and Ranjin  
  
Summary: What they dream about after being transformed back to their normal selves.  
  
Author's Note: Un-beta'd. Got inspired by the few minutes of the episode of Archer dreaming in bed and his conversation with Phlox.  
  
Archive: LD has permission. Everyone else has to ask.  
  
Dreams of Paradise Lost  
  
**** The city calls to him.  
  
The smell of itexisx flowers floats in the air and the rush of water fills his ears under the dull roar of the city's normal sounds.  
  
He walks along with his friends, slowly taking in the sights, the sounds, the smells. Savoring every moment.  
  
At first, no one seems to pay attention to them. Everyone engrossed in their own conversations or work. He is not upset. Life should go on as normal, even when returned ones like him are arriving. As the thought finishes in his head, a group of their people walk up to them, holding xchiseqc eggs.  
  
"Welcome home, our brothers, our sister. Welcome home..."  
  
As he is embraced by crowd, their murmurs are at first indistinct.  
  
"What are you saying?" He looks at his friends but they are bewildered and overwhelmed by the greeting given to them.  
  
A woman smiles at him, touching his cheek and whispers.  
  
"What are you saying?" He yells this out and the crowd freezes.  
  
As one, they reply, "Do not forget us."  
  
In his bed, Jonathan Archer's eyes open.  
  
*** The walk to the messhall seems longer than normal. If she's honest with herself, nothing seems normal anymore. Everything is off, is out of kilter.  
  
Hoshi stops in front of the door and for a second, she knows he is in there.  
  
Hesitant, she lets her hand linger at the door pad. Does she want to go in there and be reminded?  
  
The moment is lost when a soft voice behind her says quietly, "He's waiting for us, you know. Open the door, Hoshi."  
  
Turning she sees Malcolm Reed, his eyes tired and still retaining some of the electric blue from their transformation. Idly, he scratches his neck and grimaces. "I've got to get more of that salve from Phlox."  
  
Opening the door, Hoshi can't help but grin. "I hate the way it smells." Malcolm's soft snort of agreement makes her grin wider.  
  
Walking in, her grin fades as she sees Jon, sitting at a table near the window, staring at the stars. Three bowls of the soft cereal they all seem to crave these days are on the table. He doesn't turn to look at them. "It's still warm. I reheated them a few minutes ago."  
  
Without a word they sit and begin eating together.  
  
The quiet surrounds them, even with the faint hum of the warp engines. Hoshi feels that even that sound is taken up by the silence and woven into it's blanket. Studying the faces of the two men, she realizes that they still have the sick, lost look when Phlox applied the retro-virus and cured them. The same expression that she has when she gazes into her bathroom mirror every morning.  
  
She is the communications officer. She is one who speaks the languages and says the phrases of diplomacy, of war. She is one who speaks the words of dreams and of reality.  
  
She is one who will speak first.  
  
Not looking at them, she gazes out at the stars. "I dream of them every night. Of the city. I dream of walking in the floating gardens and I pick a yxdich flower and put it in my hair. I dream of swimming in a pool of clear blue water. I dream of reading a book of poems in one of the libraries while looking out on the city. Every time I awaken from my dreams, I feel so sad, so lost, so alone."  
  
Malcolm reaches out and takes her hand in his. Slumping a bit in his chair, his voice is the saddest she's ever heard. "I dream of them every night. I dream of the city. I carve a sculpture to be put in one of the squares. I run with my friends in the jungle, practicing combat maneuvers, even though I know that we have not been at war with anyone for a millennium. I sit at a concert, listening to songs of our people while looking out on the city."  
  
Squeezing Malcolm's hand gently, Hoshi turns to Jon. He's still looking out at the stars and the expression on his face is one she cannot label, cannot ascribe a word to, but something about it is familiar.  
  
For a long time they sit, waiting for him to speak.  
  
Reaching out, Hoshi finally takes his hand and turning to look at them, Jon's voice seems to come from far away as he speaks. "I dream of walking with the two of you in the city. Everything is so beautiful, so incredibly beautiful. I can hear the city, I can smell the city, I can feel the city. People come up to us, so happy that we've arrived. So joyful that we've made it safely. They embrace us and call us their brothers and sister. But that's all I can make out, because otherwise their voices are muted. I keep asking them, 'What are you saying?' I have to ask over and over again, until they all stop and say..."  
  
"Do not forget us." The words are out of her mouth and Malcolm's just as Jon says them. A shiver travels up her spine and suddenly she feels very, very cold.  
  
"There are times I want to forget," says Malcolm mournfully. "I want to forget and get back to normal. But what is normal? There is this part of me that remembers how I leapt up that tree and found the xchiseqc eggs and was proud, but I wanted to eat quickly and get to the city, to get home. That seems more normal, more real than anything I've experienced since we've gotten back."  
  
"I was so eager to get to the city, the anticipation made my entire soul vibrate. The yearning was so strong. Nothing seems to come close to that now," added Hoshi.  
  
"It was so beautiful it made my heart sing with joy. I have never felt anything so strongly in my life," finished Jon. He reached out and took Malcolm's free hand in his and they sat together, no longer looking out at the stars, but at each other.  
  
For a moment Hoshi thought that she could remember the language of the Loque'eque. For a moment she was sure that Malcolm and Jon could too. A thrill shot through her...if they could just continue speaking in the right language...  
  
Jon let go their hands and stood up. "All we'll ever have of them is our dreams. Good night, Hoshi, Malcolm."  
  
He walked out of the messhall without looking back.  
  
Malcolm waited a bit, then let go of her hand. "He's right."  
  
"I know. I just wish it didn't hurt so much." Hoshi swallowed hard. She was surprised at herself, for the old her would have been holding back the tears. There were no tears to suppress, but there was the aching sadness, pounding behind her eyes.  
  
"It will always hurt, always," replied Malcolm. He reached and gave her hand one more light touch. Standing up, he gathered the bowls and went to put them away.  
  
Hoshi also stood and walked to the door. Before leaving the messhall, she turned back to Malcolm, who was getting himself a mug of tea. "Malcolm?"  
  
He pivoted to face her. "Yes, Hoshi?"  
  
"I don't want to forget."  
  
He smiled ruefully. "Then don't. I won't forget either."  
  
Their eyes locked and she knew he telling her the truth.  
  
***  
  
In his quarters, Jon sits on his bed, unable to sleep. He looks down at Porthos, happily asleep next to him. "I won't forget," he whispers. "I won't forget." 


End file.
